Playing Lost and Found
by BewareTheBunnys
Summary: Ilia Darrow was a lady of the 1920's, not one for the outdoors or adventure. With a sudden fall, she comes into the company of a band of dwarves and a wizard, who seems to know more about her than she knows if herself, on their way to someplace called 'The Shire'. Will Ilia fall to the wild, or find something to survive for? (Eventual FilixOC)
1. One

**So I started writing this just last night and I don't know if I'll continue it, but it seems like a decent start. Also I just do not understand the lack of Fili stories because he is perf.**  
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Ilia Darrow woke up one bright morning on the eve of summer, and instantly wished she could sleep through the day. That particular day was Ilia's 28th birthday. It was a day she had been dreading for quite some time, for her mother, Marilise, had the nasty habit of reminding her on these days that she would not be young forever. Every birthday since she was 16 was an event. There was a great dinner and guests, and Ilia was not blind to the fact that most of them where men.

When she turned 26 and became the last of her siblings to leave home, affectionately named the Darrows, for marriage, it became unbearable, but unavoidable. So she went downstairs that day, knowing and dreading what was to come on this, the day of her birth.

* * *

When Ilia was only eight years old, she enjoyed playing soldiers in the dirt with her brothers, the twins. They were two years younger, but much closer to her in personality than their sister. Long into the night, and long after their mother had taken them to bed would they play. All sorts of games and none meant for a lady.

Whenever Marilise found her second born in her dirty dress with muddy hands and feet, there was always a look she was given. A look somewhere in between disappointment and irritation, one that their mother wore often.

As Ilia stood awkwardly in her party dress, a new fashion from England her mother and sister had twittered on about for minutes before she was allowed into it, she felt that look burn into her back. It wasn't as if she wasn't trying, or that she was opposed to marriage or men in general. Simply, that with all the men she had ever met, none had ever stood out to her. They all seemed to be the same drab noblemen with a different face.

Anyway, most of them seemed completely unimpressed with her as well, with her crooked nose and boyish attitude. It truly was not her fault if she preferred to stay by the finger sandwiches over the party guests, who danced and twirled and entertained shallow conversation.

It was there that Ilia found herself, nearly two hours later, in the grand ballroom of the Darrows. She had been approached by a couple party goers, one of them female, but had overall been ignored for more favorable company. On this, the day of her birth. It came to such a point, that she could not stand to be in the same room as her sisters and their friends, so she waited. She waited until her mother had focused on another guest, and her sisters their husbands, then Ilia escaped.

The only place in the whole of the manor that she felt truly safe was her room, so that was where she went. It was absurd, running from her own party, in her own home, in that ridiculous dress that came up just a bit too far above her calves for her to be comfortable in it. Yet, no matter how silly it seemed, when she entered her room and shut the door firmly behind her, she felt a bit better. The weight of her mother and her age lifted from her shoulders and she was again that eight year old in the mud with her brothers.

That's when she saw it. Just above her window a light shone, leaving a reflection in the top corner. Ilia quickly drew up the front of her house in her mind, but could remember nothing that would cause such a light. Even when the window was open, and she craned her neck as far as it would turn, there was nothing to be seen but a glow, just to the right above her.

Curiosity was taking over now, and she quickly glanced to her door to make sure it was shut, before hoisting herself out onto the window ledge. It was stupid, and it was reckless but it put a smile on her face. Ilia felt brave, as she pulled herself the rest of the way out, balancing precariously on the ledge. Braver than her brothers, braver than anyone in her family could imagine her being.

She felt brave and she could finally see that light, just for a second, before her footing was lost and she lurched backwards. Then the smile fell from her lips. Then, she felt just as young as her mother always said she wasn't anymore.

Then, she fell.

* * *

And when she opened her eyes, after her breath had been caught and her pain had subsided for the most part, it was daytime. Which was quite strange, as in had been past supper when she fell, but not quite as strange as the tree she was now under. She sat up, glancing around at the odd scenery around her. It was beautiful yes, any other time she would have loved to explore, but she had no idea of where it was. Nothing looked familiar; there were no signs, no paths, and no landmarks to help her find her way.

Her first idea, though admittedly not a brilliant one, was to climb back into the tree and go back the way she came. Honestly, she would take a two story fall and a scolding from her mother than to be so hopelessly lost. All she got for her efforts were several green smears on her already dirty dress and a deep fright as she climbed back down the tree, not liking the feeling of dropping.

Far away, though, just over the wind she could hear voices. Strange voices, to be sure, but voices all the same. Very distantly over a hill she could see them, a group of what looked like large children and a tall man with a hat that pointed at the top.

Instantly, Ilia became wary. She was in a place she did not recognize, and how she had gotten there she could not remember. Was she to simply put her hope in this man and trust he and his group would not have any nefarious motives? The thought passed, discarded, but not without much deliberation. How likely was it that she would find her way to any civilization on her own, let alone make it back to her home in that way? For the moment, all she could do was put her fragile trust in this man, and hope she could fight them off if the conversation turned sour.

The closer they got, however, the more she wanted to climb back up into her tree and try again to find her house. The easier it became to see this bunch, the more she wished she could not; for the closer they got, the more she realized they were not children, and that he was not just a man. It was too late; if she could see them in such gruesome detail then surely they could see the same of her.

As soon as they were close enough to be heard clearly, the man spoke in a deep voice, one that comforted Ilia and made her guarded in the same moment.

"Good morning, my Lady."

"Is it?" She answered back, eyeing them all with stark distrust. "Is it that you are wishing me a good morning, or simply saying that this morning is good?"

The man smiled, obviously pleased, though she could not fathom why. "Both, I suppose. What is it that brings you to these woods, might I ask? They are a danger to any strong men willing to brave them, let alone a single unarmed woman."

"I suppose..." she hesitated, "I suppose I have lost my way. I only wished to satisfy my curiosity, and now I cannot find the path back to my home."

"Gandalf," one of the small men, one with a rather impressive ginger beard, intervened, "we cannot leave a child out in the wilderness by her lonesome." The others murmured in agreement, and the tall man - Gandalf, she assumed - nodded.

"Indeed, it is likely that she would not last the night without a proper weapon. Wild men are one thing, but Orc's can be seen in these woods on occasion."

"She could come with us." Said the smallest and youngest looking of the group. When everyone turned to him he flushed, but continued his thought. "At least to the next village. That's only half a day's walk, is it not?"

Gandalf smiled at him, and he seemed to boil red in his joy. "You are correct, Ori. Should she choose so, she shall accompany us into town." All of their gazes turned to her, expectant. "My Lady?"

Ilia wondered how they could accept her so easily, having just met her mere moments ago, and part of her wanted to hesitate because of it. Yet she knew if she did not go with them that she might never find another to guide her, at least one so willing to guide. So she took a deep breath and put out her hand to that Gandalf fellow.

"Ilia, of the Darrows."


	2. Two

**Oh my gosh I didn't expect any reviews, let alone such an extensive one. thank you guest, whoever you are! I hope I don't dissapoint in the coming chapters.**  
**Also if you read the first chapter before today, I have changed a small detail about them going to bree. I remembered that bree is on the complete oposite side of the shire so I've changed it. Sorry for any confusion.**

* * *

Ilia was not someone who avoided physical activity, but even so she had difficulty keeping up with the group on foot. It was rather surprising, as most of the men around her seemed more out of shape then her. She would not let it show however, and made a point to keep her breath steady as they spoke with her.

As soon as she agreed to accompany them, they all introduced themselves, thought she still had trouble naming them. Occasionally, they would point to themselves and have her say their name, which they seemed to think was hilarious. She started to agree after she learned their names, and started using the wrong one just to tease them.

So far, they had traveled for only a couple of hours, by her uneducated guess, but she had already grown to enjoy Bofur the most, and Ori just behind. Bofur had the habit of talking, a lot, and she found herself always listening to his stories. Ori, in contrast, did not talk much but when he did he often blushed and smiled at her. She figured him to be the youngest, and quite shy.

Gandalf, on the other hand, seemed quite content to avoid her. She did however catch him looking at her sometimes with the oddest look on his face, though he would smile, nod, and turn away when he saw her looking.

Soon, as Ori said, they arrived at a town, and the first place the group decided to go was a pub. Ilia wasn't pleased with this, she had seen enough drunken men from her home to last her a lifetime. She was not about to refuse the group that offered her shelter, however, at least for now.

Some of the more responsible went into the town first, presumably to get supplies and food, while the rest ate and sang and drank in the pub. Gandalf, however, sat quietly in a booth and Ilia took her chance to join him.

"You have many questions for me, little one." It was a statement, not a question.

"Why must you all call me little?" Ilia asked, annoyed. "Most of your party are shorter than I, by a head." He laughed.

"Indeed they are, but you are much younger."

She scoffed, looking down into her glass. "I still don't see how that is entirely possible."

Gandalf was suddenly serious. "Or perhaps you have solved the why for yourself, yet are reluctant to accept it." Ilia's eyes flew up to meet his in surprise. "Surely, you have heard me call members of our party Master Dwarf; I hope you did not think I was simply being rude."

"I..." she started, not quite sure what she had thought about it, "I did not think to believe it was the truth. I have never known such a being to exist in my life."

Nodding, he looked suddenly quite tired. "Indeed, it appears as though you are from a very different place than this."

"To put it mildly." She murmured.

"You, my dear, are in Middle Earth. Specifically, a day's ride from The Shire. I have known that this is not where you yourself come from." He looked at you again, like he was looking through you. "It is quite obvious, to a wizard such as me."

Ilia sputtered into her drink, shocked. "A wizard? You do magic?" First dwarves and now wizards? It was all becoming too much for the poor Scottish girl to handle. Being lost was one thing, but being in the company of people who seemed to think such creatures were real was a very different matter entirely. Where was this place she had landed anyway?

"When the occasion calls for it." Gandalf answered enigmatically.

"I just don't understand." She said, trying to process everything through her mind. "Where I am from, magic, dwarves, they don't exist. There is no such thing except in children's stories."

He only smiled. "Oh, my dear, many stories are based in truths."

There was a moment, while Ilia thought about everything that had happened to her. She had somehow been transported to a land, a different world really, she was unfamiliar with, and was now travelling with several dwarves and a wizard. None of it could be explained rationally. Nothing in her life before would have been able to help her understand it. So, she took a deep breath and accepted it. This place was obviously much different world, culturally and otherwise, than any she had ever known. The only thing she could do, logically, was believe what they said and hope for the best afterwards.

"But you knew," she said suddenly, "you knew that I was not from this place when you found me."

He simply nodded.

After a moment, a thought struck her, and though she knew she did not want to know the answer, she had to ask.

"Will I ever go home?"

There was silence, as Gandalf looked on at the rest of their party, drinking and laughing, before he turned to her.

"On that matter, I'm afraid I haven't the slightest idea."

Just then there was a commotion, close by, but far enough from the others -oh goodness she would have to start calling them dwarves - that they did not notice as quickly as Ilia and Gandalf. She was the first to notice that Ori, the smallest dwarf, was the subject of the torment by the hands of a couple of average looking men.

"It seems our young master Ori has found himself in a spot of trouble." Gandalf, his tone cool, was not looking at Ori, but at Ilia.

She eyed the men. "Just a spot?"

Dori and Nori, across the room seemed to notice that their brother was no longer with them, and were yelling for him. It was just as one of the larger men shoved Ori, tossing all the mugs in his hands to the ground.

In moments Ilia was up and next to Ori.

"Excuse me," she said, trying to make herself seem just a bit taller, "but what is the meaning of this?"

The group was drunk, that much was obvious, but that only made them ever the more bold. "Little dwarf run into us." The leader, she assumed, said, his voice slurred and his tone obnoxious. Her lip curled just listening to him speak.

Ilia turned her back to them, helping the young dwarf up and seeing that their party had joined them. "I see, the next logical step was to push him. It's my mistake then." She snapped back.

They only laughed with each other. "The dwarf needs help from a woman to fight his battles, lads!"

They all laughed again, and their leader chimed in, "what would you expect, not even a respectable scrap of hair on his face!"

If Ilia had not been turned towards Ori at that moment she would not have seen the look of shame on the youngest dwarves face, nor the looks of rage on the faces of the others. Her hand squeezed Ori's shoulder in an effort to comfort him, before she swung around and, with all the power she could muster from her tiny body, landed a right hook squarely on the leaders jaw.

Pain exploded over her knuckles down to her wrist; she had never punched anyone before, but she felt a sick sort of satisfaction as the man stumbled back. The rest of the company surged in front of her, protecting her from any form or retaliation as she held her sore hand to her chest. Ilia would actively admit she would not have expected that from a group she barely knew, but a warm feeling grew in her chest as well.

The yelling began, from the drunken men, from the other patrons, and from her group. Weapons were brandished, drinks were spilled, and threats were shouted. The whole pub was in frenzy.

The owner quickly pushed their company to leave. Though they grumbled about it, none blamed Ori, or Ilia for that matter, for the incidents that caused them to be forced out. In fact it seemed as though that sort of thing was a regular occurrence, the way they joked about it.

"Well," Ilia said, as they started down the road again, "that was quite an adventure."

There was a murmur of laughter from the group that made her smile. Gloin, a wide dwarf with a magnificent ginger beard, gave her a hard clap on the shoulder that almost sent her sprawling into the dirt. "Indeed." Gandalf said, looking quite proud. "Though, I dare say, not that last you, my dear, shall have."

After a couple of moments of relative silence, Ilia could not help but ask, "Not having a beard, that was an insult, was it not?"

Bofur, from next to her laughed. "Oh aye, greatest offence of all."

She smiled. "That's a relief. I would hate to have punched him for anything less." Even Gandalf chuckled at that, and Ilia thought maybe this adventure she was on would not be so bad after all.


	3. Three

**Oh my gosh, guys you are the best. So many sweet reviews, I only hope I don't disappoint you at any point. Chapters Might not always come out this quickly, be warned.**

* * *

"Gandalf, I do not mean to complain," Ilia said, trying desperately to keep her voice level, "but might we arriving soon? It might be commonplace here, but I have never walked so far in one turn of the sun in all of my life."

To say Ilia had not slept well the night before would have been a gross understatement. She did not blame the dwarves, far from it. Dori and Nori in particular seemed to be dead set on making her comfortable on the way. After they left the pub they walked until night time, only a couple hours but it had Ilia tired. Nori had instantly offered her an extra blanket from his pack for her to sleep on, and Dori insisted on giving her the first spoonful of soup at dinner.

They insisted they were only being polite, she was a guest and a lady besides, and so deserved extra comforts. It was only later that Gandalf confided in her that they felt grateful that she had come to Ori's rescue when they could not. They were awfully protective of their younger brother, something Ilia could understand, and felt glad that she would go so far as to physically defend him after knowing him only a couple of hours.

So she accepted the warm soup and the blanket to sleep on. She had come to that world with nothing but the clothes on her back; it would have been impractical to reject such kindness. Still, she thanked them at every opportunity. She was a lady, and she would be damned before she stopped acting like one.

The next morning, she had woken up with a crick in her neck and a cramp in her legs, from the hard ground or the long walk the day before she did not know. However, not a complaint left her lips as they ate, packed up their camp, and left. Many hours she walked, wincing and tripping and feeling the backs of her shoes grate against her ankles. She would be bleeding before that day was up but refused to speak of it a loud.

Then dusk began to fall. The sun started to drop behind the trees and the air started to cool. Before long, the road, which had been framed with tall trees and dirt for most of the journey, wound off over the peak. The tress soon cleared and the rolling hills were discovered, covering in nothing but beautiful, green grass, a couple patches of wild flowering decorating their way.

Ilia had never been so happy in her life. Quickly, she shed her shoes, and socks, and went ahead of even Gandalf to scrunch her toes in the soft grass. Even after the group caught up with her, laughing at her child like behavior, she refused to go onto the path with its dirt and sharp rocks. Instead she walked just next to them, barefoot and content as could be.

That had been nearly an hour ago and even the cool grass under her toes could not sooth the ache coursing up her legs.

"Soon, my lady," Gandalf replied, smiling back at her with pity in his eyes, "soon we will be there."

"I hope we will find some place that I might find some different clothing." She spoke, picking at her skirt. "I did not dress for excessive walking when I awoke yesterday morn."

"If you accompany our party to Bree, dear Ilia, surely we will find you suitable attire." He answered.

"And different boots..." She spoke, looking down at her toes.

"I would carry you, my lady." Dori said, his voice confident, continuing on before she could refuse him. "If only I stood but a few inches taller."

It was true, Dori was one of the shortest dwarves, his eyes level with her collar. If he had tried to carry her she would have surely crushed him. Still, she was touched by the gesture. "Thank you, master dwarf, that is quite kind of you." He blushed and looked to the ground as he walked.

Soon, as predicted, they stumbled upon a cluster of rolling hills and Gandalf announced that they had arrived. Ilia peered into the darkness, with only the small amount of moonlight to see by she did not note any houses in which someone could live. They were lead carefully down, and when she turned she saw doors in the hills.

"There are people living in the ground under the hills?" She exclaimed in shock.

"Oi!" Bofur called back in jest. "Where do you think dwarves live?"

In her confusion, she turned to Gandalf and, kindly taking pity upon her, he explained. "The creature you are about to meet, the one that lives in this village, is a hobbit. They are small; you would mistake them for children if you did not know any better."

As they traveled, now up to the top of the peak in the middle of the town, Ilia eyed the round doors that she now noticed on every mound of earth. "Are they dirty, inside these houses?"

He laughed. "Oh my goodness, no." His hand went to her back to push her to follow the group, who all seemed to know where they were headed now. "And I think it best, for your health and his, not to not mention dirt in his home."

At last they arrived, Ilia quickly putting her shoes on, this time sans socks, and standing behind the group who all seemed insistent on ringing the doorbell themselves. Even crowded as they were she could hear a voice from inside, and as she leaned ever closer she noted that he sounded most annoyed. The door opened, and the dwarves, who had pilled against it for whatever reason, fell like a waterfall into the poor hobbit's house. Ilia, losing her balance, tumbled in after them, rolling painfully to a stop in front of the annoyed hobbit.

"Gandalf." He greeted, his tone weary as he eyed the group trying to right themselves.

Ilia was the first, though she almost hit her head on a low doorway. She rubbed her sore elbow, having smashed it into the floor as she fell, and carefully pushed the skirt of her dress back into place before holding her hand out. "Ilia Darrow, it's quite nice to meet you, mister..." She trailed off, just having realized she didn't know his name."

"Baggins. Bilbo Baggins, at your service." He replied, gripping her hand tightly and nodding to the others who introduced themselves quickly before walking off. She got the feeling that he was glad to speak to her, he seemed already exasperated by the less then well mannered dwarves taking food from his pantry. He saw a full tray of biscuits on its way down his hall and ran off after it, yelling that they be put back.

She tried to follow him, and Gandalf after her, but there were so many dwarves that she had to press against the wall to not be run over. The group she travelled with were not the only dwarves there. There was one even as tall as she was, who made up for his baldness with his dark beard. A shorter grey haired dwarf smiled at her and introduced himself as Balin, and she noted he was very polite for a dwarf.

Suddenly a plate of cheese was pushed into Ilia's hands and someone, she could not see who, gently nudged her towards what she assumed was the dining room. A lot of the others were there and putting down plates to create a large meal for everyone to share from. She handed them to Ori who wiped them down with his sweater and handed them to Gandalf who seemed to be none the wiser, or simply did not care. A couple of the dwarves she was acquainted with were already seated, the elder Oin and the larger Bombur. Many already seemed to be drinking, and two younger looking dwarves she hadn't met were carried an entire cask of ale into the room.

They dropped it carefully, stood up, and congratulated each other before the darker one seemed to notice she was there. He started, maybe surprised that there was a woman there at all, before grinning and making his way straight over to her. "My lady!"

She stood in surprise. "Hello!" She put out her hand, expecting him to shake it, but he brought it up to his lips and kissed it, looking into her eyes as he did.

"Kili, at your service, My Lady."

It had happened many times, at her mother's parties, where a man would try to impress or fluster her by doing such a thing, but for them it had never worked. They had always thought that she would fall to their feet and be entranced by even the slightest hint of affection. Somehow this was quite different. Even Ilia could tell that this was not to affect her, but a simple - and effective, she had to say - greeting from a man to a woman. She flushed, to her embarrassment, but her eyes went to the other, the last dwarf she hadn't met.

"Fili." He said, though he didn't reach for her hand. "At your service."

"Ilia Darrow," she nodded at him, "pleasure to meet you."


	4. Four

**I know, this story is moving awfully slow but I kind of like that better? I almost never enjoy stories that cover so much plot in very little space as much as long drawn out stories where you can get to know the characters and their motivations. I don't know, just a thought. All reviews and criticisms and even stray thoughts are appreciated. Please enjoy.**

Ilia soon learned that dwarvish table manners were practically non-exisistant. As soon as she saw food leaving plates and flying towards other members of the table, she filled up her plate with everything she wanted and lifted it to her lap to save it from the same horrible fate. Afterwards, with her share safe and accounted for, she found the group lively and cheerful, even laughing when Bombur, who was sat next to her, caught an egg from all the way across the table. She could just barely see Mister Bilbo, outside the dining room, mourning over his loss of food.

She could see why, it was absolutely delicious. The meat was salty, the vegetables ripe and juicy; she even managed to grab a biscuit that made her mouth water before the plate was pushed farther down the table. Ilia could not help but cheer and laugh with the lively group of dwarves.

Then the table in front of her shuddered and she could hear the thuds as something was slammed against it. When she looked up she saw one of them, Fili, if she remembered correctly, with many tankards in his hands, passing them out, but walking on top of the table to do so. She was suddenly very glad that she had chosen to keep her plate close so early on in the meal. He jumped down to sit with his brother, next to Ori who was next to her, and eyed her with a certain sort of smugness.

"Don't suppose you would like an ale, milady? Or might we find something more suited towards your tastes?" He said it, not in a cruel or even rude tone, but the words annoyed her. She was a lady, yes, but that did not mean she could not handle the same drink as any man could.

Ilia grabbed the full tankard from Fili's hand and brought it to her lips after giving him a quick nod. The drink was bitter and biting and singed a path all the way down into her gut, but she did not stop until the entire thing was empty. As she brought it back down with a gasp of breath, she saw all the eyes at the table on her.

"Gods!" She exclaimed, not able to think of anything else, "That was the worst alcohol I think I've ever tasted." They all burst into laughter, and across the table she could see Dwalin, the largest dwarf, pouring his entire drink into Oin's ear trumpet. Ori laughed with the rest, but next to him Fili was still looking at her, possibly annoyed that she had taken his drink. She leaned forward towards him a bit.

"Perhaps we can find you something suited towards your tastes, master dwarf."

Before he could retort another tankard was in his hand, the whole table bringing there drinks up in unison. Ilia watched in amusement, as they drank so fast that ale slipped past their lips and into their beards. Nori finished first with a loud burp, and the rest followed. Very suddenly, Ori stood up next to her and beat them all with a belch that rattled Ilia in her seat. There was a beat of silence and then she laughed, louder than she had in quite some time.

Nearly an hour later, after Bilbo's food had been finished off to the last scrap, Ilia had moved to the hall, finding it blissfully less crowded. She enjoyed the dwarves, most definitely, but there were twelve of them and that was too many faces to pay attention to all at once.

She had barely managed to catch her breath however, when Gandalf was pushed into the room by Bilbo, who looked and sounded as if he were having a fit. "-they've all but _destroyed_ the plumbing - I don't understand what they're doing in my house!"

Ilia glanced up at Gandalf who seemed reluctant to answer the question that she herself had started to wonder. Why had they come to, and destroyed, this poor hobbit's home in the first place? Everyone seemed dressed for battle apart from her; this Shire seemed to be the least likely place for them to gather for anything of the sort. The wizard was spared from answering when Ori walked up to Bilbo, holding out his empty dish.

"Excuse me, I'm sorry to interrupt, but what should I do with my plate?"

"Here, Ori," she heard over her shoulder, and turned to find Fili there, "give it to me." He walked past her and took the plate in his hand. It was then that Ilia was pulled back just in time to watch that same plate fly past her face and have Kili catch it with one hand. For a split second she was annoyed, he had just chucked a plate at her head after all, but then it happened again and again with bowls and forks and all sorts of dish wear. She had to admit, although begrudgingly, that it was rather impressive the way he caught every last dish from the dining room.

There was an odd stomping behind her, and just as she turned to look someone began to sing, which could not have been any stranger to her.

_Blunt the knives and bend the forks_

_Smash the bottles and burn the corks_

_Chip the glasses and crack the plates_

_That's what Bilbo Baggins hates_

Listening to the song, though confused, it was not hard for Ilia to find it amusing. Bilbo did seem to be the kind of person to care a great deal about material things, and it wasn't as if they were actually doing any real harm, so she felt no guilt chuckling over it. It seemed the dwarves agreed with her, for when they had finished and every last plate and bowl was clean, they could not hold in their laughter at the distressed and panicked look on Bilbo's face.

Then it was over; with a loud knock on the door everyone's mood seemed to grow serious. Gandalf glanced down at her, his face somber. "He is here."

Everyone stood crowded around the front door as Gandalf opened it, and yet another figured stood, waiting for entrance. Being so far away, Ilia could not see his face, but his voice was deep as he spoke. "Gandalf." When he entered the room and took off his cloak, Ilia could not help but think he must have been someone quite important. He held himself proudly and seemed to expect others recognize it, which every dwarf in the entry way did. "You said this place would be easy to find. I lost my way, twice." He strode into the hall, past Bilbo and herself, not looking like he even noticed them. "I would not have found it at all if not for the mark on the door."

Bilbo, ruffled angrily and rushed up to the door to inspect it. "There's no mark on that door! I just had it painted a week ago!"

Ilia noticed Gandalf shuffling guiltily in front of the door, not allowing Bilbo to open it and check. "There is a mark, I put it there myself." There was barely a moment for Bilbo to be scandalized, before the wizard gestured down at him. "Bilbo Baggins, allow me to introduce the leader of our company, Thorin Oakenshield."

It was not hard to imagine that she and the hobbit had the same expression of shock on their faces. She was simply glad that he was not looking her over with the same look of contempt that he was showing Bilbo. "So," Thorin said, walking around him as if he were inspecting him, "this is the hobbit."

Bilbo was asked many questions, though he didn't seem to understand the importance in any of them. The dwarf shook his head. "He looks more like a grocer than a burglar." As he turned to leave he caught sight of her. "Who is this?" His voice was curious, but harsh in the same moment.

Ilia had experience at dealing with men; she had two brothers and a mother who wished to see her married as soon as possible. This new world however seemed to be full of men that she did not know how to handle. This one, he was important, that much was obvious. The best she could do was be as polite as possible and hope she did not offend him in any way.

"My name is Ilia," she paused, remembering how all the dwarves had greeted the same, "at your service." Her head nodded towards him slightly as a sign of respect. Before he could respond, negatively or not, Gandalf moved to stand behind her. "My apprentice."

Everyone looked up to him in surprise, though none as much as Ilia herself. Apprentice? Apprentice to what, wizardry? That was preposterous and everyone seemed to know it, Thorin most of all.

"Apprentice, Gandalf?" The skeptical look on his face was only slightly offensive to her pride, if only because she believed it to be ridiculous as well. The wizard merely nodded.

"It would be best to get to other matters first, however. Please, sit." He gestured into the dining room. "We have much to discus."

The dwarf eyed her, as if suspicious, before moving into the room, the others following close behind until only Bilbo and Ilia were left with Gandalf. He gave Bilbo a smile, and placed a hand on Ilia's shoulder. "I will explain it to you later, my dear."

She watched the wizard seat himself amongst the dwarves again, and wondered if he hadn't just gotten her into a whole lot of trouble.


End file.
